


monachopsis

by gloworm



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autistic Rhys, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Single Dad Rhys, Trans Rhys, but maybe future smut?, rated m for trauma themes, tags will change, the author is sick of drama and wants to see and write soft content, timothy lawrence deserves the world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-21 13:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21300023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloworm/pseuds/gloworm
Summary: Please.give away the end.Tell me it's us.
Relationships: Timothy Lawrence/Rhys
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	1. open doors

**Author's Note:**

> hey what's up turns out all i can really write is the single softest gayest shit you've seen! i'm back with MORE soft content and i have casual and cute plans for this. this is ideally mostly a healing fic about coming to terms with trauma and learning that in order to heal you need to trust, and in order to trust you need to allow yourself to open up. i'm eager to hear what you guys think of this first chapter!

  
Tim was in hell.

He was 800% sure he was in hell because every inch of him hurt incomprehensibly, throbbing and churning and feeling suspiciously like how he assumed soup felt. His head didn’t hurt so much as throbbed incessantly, radiating pain down toward the rest of his body - especially his spine. He was laying on something cold and hard, the floor probably if his track record was anything to go by, even worse considering his memories were scattered blurs of colors as opposed to actual events. Murmurs of noise, muted by the hellish reality of a hangover building into a migraine, gave way to inklings of faces. Wilhelm had invited everyone over to his apartment and of course, Nisha and Jack had shown up late with an alarming amount of liquor and no less than 6 pizzas. Tim remembered drinking, then blacking out, then his brain coming back online enough to know he should leave considering his apartment was only 2 floors down from Wilhelm’s. He remembered the sensation of forgetting his keys and Jack slurring out the bright idea of just scaling down the building to his apartment via the balconies. He….almost remembered doing it?   
He remembered hitting his balcony hard, that was for sure. He sucked in a deep breath which eased something in his chest, finally feeling the sensation of sunlight warming him, still weak and rising, and dared to force his eyes open.

The first thing he noticed was a swirl of colors, white with black and orange swipes, directly to his right. Vaguely confused he blinked several times and continued his visual exploration, frowning as he realized it was a flower pot with some sort of plant in it. He didn’t remember having a flower pot on his balcony, he had the horrible affinity for killing all the plants he touched - or at least the ones his dog didn’t eat first. The second thing he noticed was the increasing horrified realization that he was not actually on his own balcony, coupled with the soft sound of humming and sloshing water. Tim quickly looked to his left, groaning at the dizzying nausea that rose with the action and took a foolish moment trying to get his stomach under control by pressing his eyes tightly closed and curling into a ball. The humming stopped and Tim felt his chest tighten with fear, wondering just who’s balcony exactly he was on. Distracted by his mini freak out, he didn’t notice the sound of approaching footsteps and yelped as he was suddenly drenched.

“What the _fuck_?”

“_Hey_. Language.”

Tim flinched at the sharpness of whoever’s words, wiping the water from his eyes and blinking in the shadow of the person standing over him. He made eye contact, which was fleeting since the other man broke it within a handful of seconds, and felt himself freeze. Of course, he had to pass out on the balcony of his cute new neighbor. He couldn’t even remember the guy's name, his brain had shorted out when he and his daughter had introduced themselves, bringing over a couple of cupcakes the little girl had made and decorated with red frosting and little bat sprinkles. Vampire Cupcakes, she had stated proudly as her dad had smothered a smile behind his hand, winking at Tim. They’d been amazing, gluten and lactose-free due to an allergy that the guy had waved off explaining. Tim had seen him a few times after that but only in passing, on the morning out the door and when coming home exhausted with an overexcited girl practically vibrating with the need to talk about her day. Tim’s tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth, viciously biting the inside of his cheek before he blurted out something stupid and embarrassing, like a passing comment on how he didn’t look as tired as usual or how his hair, soft and out of its usual slicked back style, looked so much cuter. He blanched once he realized that the (presumably) single dad (he’d never seen anyone else going into that apartment and Tim hated how much that made his stomach flip) was making small distressed noises above him, arms crossed tightly with his head tilted.

“So…..want to talk about why you’re sleeping on my balcony, Tim? I’m not sure how you even really got here, we’re 18 floors up. And your apartment is literally right next door.”

Oh. Oh he knew Tim’s name. This was both very good and very bad, because he had no clue what his name was. His head throbbed at the stress he felt, causing him to wince and sigh softly. Raking a hand through his wet hair he blinked at the hand extended in front of his face.

“Well? You can talk and help at the same time hm? I’m making bacon pancakes, let’s go.”

Tim grabbed his hand and stumbled to his feet, nearly toppling over and stumbling into his neighbor. He grunted as he caught and steadied Tim, eyeing him critically as he stepped away and walked back through the opened sliding glass door.

“Uh….sorry about…the balcony.”

Tim managed to rasp out before coughing. His throat was horribly dry and clicked as he swallowed, but was quickly forgotten at the sound of pleasant music and the realization that his neighbor’s daughter was watching cartoons on the couch, rhythmically rubbing a blanket in between her fingers. She managed to pull her gaze away enough to glance at him, blink, then resume watching. His brows shot up as he recognized the show, Over the Garden Wall, but followed his neighbor into the kitchen.

“My uh-”

A cup of coffee was set in front of him, sugar and milk next, a spoon following shortly.

“All we have is lactose-free milk so, sorry if that’s not your jam.”

Tim blinked and thanked his neighbor quietly, fixing his coffee as he quietly watched the dad pull out a ziplock bag from the fridge filled with chopped bacon, and another bag from the pantry filled with what he assumed was pancake mix. The man shot Tim an expectant look and Tim realized he’d been in the middle of a sentence before coffee took precedence.

“-oh uh, my friend lives 2 floors above ours and ironically apparently 2 exact floors above your apartment. I guess when I scaled down the building I mistook your balcony from mine?”

Tim’s voice took a vaguely hysterical quietly as his neighbor stared at him in disbelief, or what he assumed it was anyway. The guy was giving him kind of a blank look and he didn’t quite understand what he was trying to convey.

“You scaled the building why again?”

That….was a good question. Tim’s gaze trailed into the middle distance as he tried to remember why it had been such a good idea at the time. Oh. His keys.

“Oh, I lost my keys. My brother convinced me this would be a great idea and…I mean I didn’t die so…yay?”

Tim hated how he cataloged the way his neighbor’s nose wrinkled and his lips twitched in amusement, shaking his head as he took a few steps toward the table and laid something down in front of Tim, which Tim realized with a blank look and feeling of numbness were…his keys.

“These were out next to you. Looked like you had maybe landed on them wrong or something? Maybe pulled them out in apparent realization before passing out if your story is to be believed. I don’t really think you’d try to break into my apartment though, you don’t seem the type to try and rob a single dad and his kid.”

Tim groaned and buried his face in his hands, sighing and internally cursing himself for being enough of a drunk idiot to listen to Jack. He lifted his head enough to attempt to glare a hole through the ceiling, sure that Jack was passed out somewhere on Wilhelm’s floor right now. He sipped at his coffee and wallowed in misery as his neighbor let him have his moment if the soft sounds of a rubber spatula on a mixing bowl were any indications. He couldn’t help but be caught on the confirmation that his neighbor was absolutely a single dad or the way his face smoothed out with the rhythmic motions of mixing the batter. He seemed pretty in his element, if not just in a really good routine making pancakes on a Sunday morning. Tim watched him for a while as he finished mixing and moved on to actually cooking the pancakes, blinking slowly as they rose higher than most pancakes Tim had seen. He jumped as something small and furry brushed against his ankles, glancing down with a pinched expression as he saw a calico cat. He attempted to encourage the cat to move with his foot, ever so gently, already feeling itchy.

“Oh, Smooooottthhhhiiiiiieeeee!”

Both men looked toward the doorway as the little girl walked in, and Tim floundered helplessly for a name to put to the cute face. She seemed to freeze as she spotted Tim, wide-eyed and vaguely panicked. Tim noted she was still in her pajamas, then with a bit of a startled realization, he glanced at her dad and noted that he was also in his pajamas still.

And they both matched, striped blue pj pants with white tee shirts.

God this was going to kill him.

The cat ran out from under the table and wound around her legs, purring as she bent down to scoop the furball in her small arms.

“Daddy is that the man from the porch?”

She tried to whisper, one hand covering the wrong side of her mouth for privacy. Tim’s lips twitched in an attempt to not smile as he pretended not to watch. He watched his neighbor also raise a hand to stage whisper back to her, attention flickering from her to the pancakes in an effort not to burn anything.

“It’s a balcony, not a porch, but yes. This is Tim, remember? You gave him Vampire cupcakes.”

“Oh. Why is he all wet?”

“He needed help waking up.”

She nodded like this was the most perfect reason in the world, and padded across the floor toward the table. Tim nudged a chair out with his foot, a hand over the lower half of his face as she carried the cat closer.

“Smoothie can’t sit at the table Bee, you know this. Tim, are you ah, allergic to cats?”

“Uhhh…no? Maybe? Yes. I’m very allergic to cats.”

The little girl, Bee, seemed put out at this information, but she let the cat go and gently escorted it out of the room. Tim blinked as something was set down in front of him and stared down at the bottle of allergy medicine before popping it open and taking one to hopefully take the itchy eyes away.

“Thank you, I didn’t know you had a cat?”

“We haven’t talked all that much, I usually only see you before leaving for the day and then when we come home. My name is Rhys by the way.”

Tim jolted as he looked up at Rhys, face heating up at the playful smile on his face. Bee raced back in, shouting that her hands were washed, and asking Tim politely (wow, why couldn’t Angel be this polite?) if he could help her into her booster seat. Tim helped her climb up as Rhys set plates and silverware down shortly before a stack of bacon pancakes and maple syrup. Tim took the initiative to help Bee cut up a pancake almost the size of her whole face as Rhys gathered cups and orange juice. Rhys slid Tim some pain killers, sharing a very short look before engaging in a conversation with his daughter about her dreams last night. Tim focused on the pancakes and felt a lot better with food in his stomach, the insistent throbbing in his skull vanishing slowly. Rhys and Bee talked at such a low murmuring volume that it was pleasant to listen to with the smell of coffee and maple syrup hanging in the air, the distinct lack of teeth scraping on metal that he was often victim to when eating with his friends. Bee lost interest in her pancakes after about halfway through and instead focused on making small humming noises and picking out the bacon with her fork. Rhys seemed to bounce noises back to her and while it was a little strange, the two just echoing noises back and forth, there was something inherently comforting about it as it was clear they did this often and it was normal between them. Tim took his time gazing at Rhys from the corner of his eye, which turned out to not be all that necessary. He bet he could stare straight at Rhys and he wouldn’t notice, so entirely enraptured in watching Bee pick apart her breakfast with a half dozing look on his face.

Tim pushed his chair out and Rhys blinked rapidly, quickly glancing over as though just waking up. Tim wondered if that was true, if Rhys had gone a little more to the side of dozing than he thought, smiling slowly as he started collecting plates. That woke Rhys up the rest of the way, startled into action and helping while his face flushed.

“Whoa whoa whoa hey you don’t have to clean up, it’s fine Tim.”

Tim shrugged and carried plates to the counter.

“You helped me out and fed me, let me help clean up.”

Rhys hesitated as he gently pried Bee’s syrupy fork from her hand, wiping her face down and letting her toddle back to the living room to snuggle with Smoothie. Tim waited patiently for the verdict as Rhys seemed to wage an internal battle, ultimately agreeing as the two cleaned up the kitchen and wiped everything clean. Grabbing his keys, Tim allowed Rhys to show him out, apologizing once again for passing out on his balcony. Rhys smothered his smile with a hand, gaze behind Tim as opposed to on him, but Tim’s shoulders slumped with relief at being forgiven. Rhys waited until Tim unlocked his door and gave him a thumbs-up, wrinkling his nose in amusement and waving back before softly closing his door. Tim sighed and walked into his apartment, significantly colder and quieter than his neighbor’s, closing the door behind him and leaning his forehead against it. Duckie, his precious greyhound, wandered over to greet him. He slid down the door into a crouch to pet her as she licked his face excitedly, sniffing his clothes curiously at all the fancy new smells he imagined he picked up being next door. Well, in a weird awful roundabout way he had gotten to know his neighbor better like he had wanted to, no matter how unconventional. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, luckily undamaged in the apparent fall he had taken while scaling the building, brown furrowing in irritation at the drunken text he had gotten from Nisha asking if he was dead, presumably sent right after his fall. Tim shook his head and thought about Rhys again, how warm his apartment had been and the flourishing plants on his balcony all in - what he now realized - hand made pots. The thought of Rhys and Bee painting flower pots they made themselves made his stomach do something weird, but he shook the train of thought away and stumbled toward his bathroom to take the hottest shower he could stand.


	2. the void, sated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the yawning void demands, but tim has found a way to make it stop hurting so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing this gets easier and easier every time i do it. domestic fluff apparently is my jam but pacing is still a bit weird for me, so let me know what you think? i don't have a beta and probably never will so oh well

Tim was annoyed. Well, maybe not far enough to claim that particular emotion, maybe a bit sadder than anything. Put out was a good term to use actually, or disappointed. After accidentally crashing in on his neighbor’s morning he’d wanted to maybe continue to get to know them, considering this had almost broken the ice - or so he thought. But with Rhys’ apparently hectic schedule which included balancing Bee’s schedule, he hadn’t seen much of them past leaving for the day and coming home. As weird as it sounded, and he really tried hard not to think of it as creepy, he pinned down the time frame pretty well. Dragging himself out of bed early he’d open his front door and lean on the door frame long enough to help distract Bee with Duckie, who wagged her tail excitedly at the sight of her new small friend, allowing Rhys the precious moments of concentration he needed to pat his pockets and lock the door. Tim hated the way his stomach flipped seeing the little celebratory smile that quirked at Rhys’ lips as he managed to get everything done, but it was nothing compared to the slow and very sweet, tired smile Rhys had when they came home. More often than not when Tim was cracking open his door (conveniently to walk Duckie just as the single dad was coming home) Rhys had Bee tucked into his arms, taking his time to walk slow and hum thoughtfully as Bee quietly murmured about her day into his shoulder. The two would pause to greet Tim, Rhys bending down so Bee could gently pet Duckie, but otherwise, descend into nothing but gentle humming for a moment before they both yawned and vanished into their apartment.

As cute as it was to see the bonding and the routine they both had down to a science, it was driving Tim insane. At this point it wasn’t even about how cute Rhys was, it was the insatiable memory of comfort and warmth in the apartment, how the sun filtered through the curtains and a sense of ease permeated the air. Tim’s own apartment felt horrifically lacking in comparison and quite frankly… it made Tim not want to be there. Tim had no idea how Rhys managed to do it but he wanted help more than anything to fix… whatever was wrong with his own place. It seemed lonelier, which was a given based on Tim’s single status, but he had assumed that adopting Duckie would make a lot of those awful dark feelings pass. It had worked for the most part, he loved Duckie and she was such a cuddly angel that he loved coming home to her, but the lived-in and peaceful quality of the apartment next door wasn’t something he could just make happen on a whim. It was all this wondering that had nearly fucked up his own schedule of socializing like he usually did considering how Jack didn’t like to be kept waiting and Nisha seemed to find it funny to not remind him where they were supposed to meet up. Wilhelm seemed inscrutable for the most part as per usual, but Tim shrugged as he ran after the small group into the bar they frequented that didn’t ask questions as long as Jack kept flashing cash. No one else seemed to notice the subtle shift in him, which was great, but Wilhelm seemed to stare through him more often than not which was always intimidating. Tim found himself drinking just a bit less, not getting as drunk as usual and finding that he actually felt better without getting black-out drunk several times a week.

Tim passed a hand over his face, wondering if he counted as an alcoholic as he locked his door. Wilhelm waited quietly next to him, hands shoved in his pockets. They were heading to the bar earlier than usual and Tim was disgruntled because he was already running late, having actually tried to make excuses to squirm his way out of hanging out with Jack and co. in order to keep the routine of welcoming Rhys after what was assuredly a long day. Sighing to himself at Wilhelm’s impatient noise (and admittedly annoyed since Wilhelm was basically sent to escort his dumb ass after his weak excuses fell through) he turned just in time for the elevator to chime and the sounds of hushed yet familiar voices to wash over him, instantly relaxing his posture. He ignored the curious noise from Wilhelm in favor of smiling softly as Rhys walked down the hallway, posture slumped and tired as he carefully cradled Bee in his arms. Curiously his gaze flickered to Tim and then Wilhelm, seeming to shrink a bit against the wall as he walked past. Bee raised her head slowly, frowning at Tim and looking at his door with her brows scrunched together. Tim realized with a sinking feeling she was looking for Duckie, watching her expression fall as she murmured a very soft greeting to him as Rhys unlocked the door.

“Hi, Timtim. Where’s Duckie?”

Tim swallowed hard and smiled at her weakly, crouching down as Bee slid from Rhys’ arms to stand on her own, leaning against her dad’s legs. Tim noticed Rhys pause, pretending to check his phone as he gave Bee a few moments to say hi, though Tim didn’t miss the way Rhys’ gaze also shifted to him in vaguely distressed curiosity. Tim hated that he may have messed up the good sense of a nice routine after trying his best for so long to instill it, but Jack couldn’t really be denied without consequences so…

“Sorry buttercup, I have somewhere to be and I’m already late so I can’t let Duckie out right now. Tomorrow though, for sure.”

“Oh…..okay…”

Rhys finally opened the door and Bee slipped in, humming softly as she peeled off her backpack. Tim sighed and stood up, wincing as his knees complained with a twinge. Rhys shot him a tired smile and with another cursory glance at Wilhelm slipped into his apartment and gently closed the door. Tim sighed and his shoulders dropped, not entirely sure why the concept of disappointing his neighbor’s kid was so awful to him, then again he was also a huge softie for Angel every time she came over so it was no surprise. Tim rubbed the back of his neck as he turned to Wilhelm, bristling as the larger man pensively stared at Rhys’ door.

“Is that the guy who’s balcony you fell on?”

Tim rolled his eyes dramatically, glad for the route the subject seemed to be heading in as he walked toward the elevator with Wilhelm in tow.

“You mean after you guys convinced me I lost my keys and let me scale down the building? Yeah. Luckily he’s nice and not an asshole like you guys.”

Wilhelm hummed in thought as the doors closed and the elevator lurched into motion, glancing at Tim as he clutched the railing and closed his eyes to calm his roiling stomach.

“You seem to have a routine with them if that little encounter was anything to go by.”

Tim liked Wilhelm more than Jack or Nisha, or the both of them combined honestly. Tim stared at the floor of the elevator, not entirely sure what he was implying.

“Well… she’s cute. Reminds me of Angel, she likes Duckie and it’s nice to help out when Rhys gets home cause Bee’s usually… overstimulated… and uh…”

Nervously glancing at Wilhelm it was clear he hadn’t expected to hear an excuse like that, or maybe he had if the way his arms were crossed was any indication despite the briefly surprised expression he wore. Tim’s tongue felt thick in his mouth, his knuckles white against the railing. He found himself needing to tell someone, to make someone else aware of the yawning void that had been growing in his chest the past few days, hours even.

“They’re just so nice, you know? Rhys invited me to breakfast after he woke me up, they wore matching pajamas, Wilhelm, matching pajamas!”

His voice took on a vaguely hysterical quality as he rambled.

“Rhys does everything he can to make sure she’s comfortable and developing properly and - and - their place is so _warm _and _peaceful_, I just don’t get it! And yeah, sure, Rhys is cute but that’s just not even what I’m talking about here - it’s - it’s - it’s just so…”

“Inviting?”

Wilhelm quietly interrupted the stuttering and Tim nodded, falling silent as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. They had a few more floors to go before the elevator would open up and Wilhelm sighed, rolling his shoulders. He seemed to pause for a moment before his gaze shifted to Tim, who glanced back anxiously.

“People like that are planets, Tim. Jack? He’s like a sun - huge gravitational pull and brighter than anything you can imagine - but getting too close burns you right up. Rhys is like a planet, pulls you in but sustains life, let’s you affect _his _world in return for a chance to be in his orbit.”

Wilhelm stopped, hummed, then passed a hand over his face roughly. He clapped a hand on Tim’s shoulder, who jumped unexpectedly at the contact. Wilhelm stared at the closed doors for a moment.

“Don’t let the sun burn everything out of you if shifting toward a planet’s orbit is an option.”

They were both silent for a few seconds before Tim nodded and the doors opened. Wilhelm drove Tim to the bar where they spent a loud afternoon into the night doing shots and watching empty bottles collect on the table. Tim was a bit quieter than usual but Jack just rolled his eyes, focusing on making Nisha cackle as loudly as possible. Tim couldn’t help but flinch every time Jack touched him, whether it was on purpose or accidentally brushing his side as they sat next to each other. He muttered an excuse about not feeling well, maybe coming down with something as the alcohol burned twice as much as usual and felt monumentally worse in his body. Wilhelm kept an eye on him and drove him home once the bar closed, making sure he got in his apartment alright before silently walking down the hall to get to his own place two floors up. Tim tossed his keys on the floor carelessly, greeting Duckie drunkenly and downing a glass of water and some advil before collapsing in bed still fully dressed. He thought about Wilhelm’s words, how he and Jack had started at the bottom and clawed their way up until he couldn’t stand the pain of stepping on other people just to make his own life easier. He thought about how Jack never stopped climbing, about hearing shaky whispers when they were younger from Jack about how afraid he was of dying unknown and unloved like their mother or grandmother.

Tim thought about discussion articles online on the concept of minimalism and how it was a fad for rich people, how people with less money clung to their possessions because seeing what they spent money on made them happy and feel less like they’d wasted their lives. He thought about Jack’s large but empty apartment and his own which honestly lacked a lot of personal touches because he’d never known what to buy. He thought about the syrupy smile of a young girl who watched colorful cartoons through the doorway of the kitchen, of an attentive single dad who made sure she was paying enough attention to finish eating. He thought about sunlight and hand made clay flower pots and a calico cat that purred loudly. He was almost surprised feeling wetness seep into his pillow but he curled up and sniffed from a quickly stuffing nose and let out a shaky breath. The hollowness in his chest flexed and expanded inch by inch until he felt consumed, burned and empty.

Tim woke up the next morning from weird and vaguely uneasy dreams with an idea and some inspiration, which he used to shower and dress in something a bit flattering but mostly comfortable yet presentable enough to leave his apartment. He walked Duckie after glancing at the calendar to confirm that today was Thursday and probably not a great day to approach Rhys but he was going to do it anyway. He entered the building again and waited at his doorway for Rhys to come out with Bee but after waiting for ten minutes his brow furrowed. Rhys was never late, so what was going on? Tim opened the door enough to encourage Duckie to follow before knocking on Rhys’ door without thinking too hard about it, twitching as Rhys opened the door and blinked at him in surprise. The void in his chest flexed and closed up just a little seeing Rhys’ face still dazed with sleep, his hair soft and falling into his eyes.

“You - late -”

Tim sputtered and Rhys raised his brows before snapping his fingers. There was something weirdly warming about Rhys seeming to completely understand the vague distress Tim felt when his schedule was thrown off, then again he knew Rhys lived mostly off schedules and lack of changes.

“Yes, sorry, Bee is sick, she had a slight fever and some coughing so I took the day off work to call her in. I’m so sorry I wasn’t thinking-”

“Heycanyouhelpmemakemyapartmentmorelikeyours?”

Rhys stared at Tim with his lips parted and a look of alarm, which made Tim realize he’d just word vomited without trying to be comprehensive. Also, he’d just spit that out without any warning or explanation so…

“I’m sorry! I. Let me try again?”

Rhys’ lips closed and twitch into an approximation of a slightly confused smile but he nodded encouragingly. Tim took a deep breath and worked on actually trying to communicate with the intention of being heard and understood.

“Hey, can you help me make my apartment more like yours?”

“Oh… how do you mean?”

Tim’s face burned, he could feel it in the prickling of his neck and cheeks. Rhys’ expression was mostly flat and neutral but he saw the way his eyes flickered from his ears to his face to his throat exploratively, causing Tim to cough into his fist as he tried to organize his thoughts.

“Just… warm. Bright, I guess? My apartment is… ”

“Not a home, clearly.”

Tim glanced up at Rhys quickly, nodding slowly with a slight grimace. Rhys tapped his fingers on the doorframe, focusing on a point over Tim’s shoulders for a few moments before he glanced at Tim’s face, making very brief eye contact before he shuffled his feet.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind helping. This weekend? You can come over for breakfast and we can leave from there, Bee should be all better by then.”

Tim’s face broke out into a huge smile and he felt the yawning void close just a bit more, suddenly not so overwhelming. It seemed weird feeling warmed by the thought of comfortable clutter turning his apartment into an actual home and he glanced down at Duckie, her tail wagging excitedly as Rhys scratched under her ear. The croaky sound of a girl’s voice came from Rhys’ home and he glanced back in before quietly saying goodbye and closing the door. Tim released a breath he didn’t know was caught in his chest and retreated to his own apartment, closing the door softly behind him and finding himself insatiably impatient for Saturday.


End file.
